A Yacht for my Number One
by Annhiliating Emily
Summary: Yohji's point of view. Sort of yaoi, sort of het. No couple. One shot.


A/N: Just a cute little thing I decided to write. A one shot, there will be nothing added on to this.

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I idly stared at my fingernails and yawned widely a-waiting the 2.00 rush-hour. The rush-hour that came with school-girls in their uniforms with short skirts, always altering the ugly things in ways they could get away with. I remember how easily I could get a girl out of a uniform... could. Past-tense; I'm old now. I picked the dirt and poppy seeds out from under my nails. Oh, how I miss being a high-school womanizer... Well, I still am, but I mean a womanizer in high-school.

I arranged the daffodils, daisies and zinnias that sat before me. Zinnias really don't fit in with daffodils or daisies at all, but the consumer is always right. I pulled at the stem of a stray daisy. It was a slow, quiet summer day.

I was alone in the shop. I kept glancing at my sterling silver Rolex watch. I was the only one with a sense of taste in watches. Omitchi always got waterproof digital, and I kept a collection. Aya always knew the time and had no need for a clock at all. Kenken didn't wear a watch. Ever. The weather was hot, though, it was more of a pleather-strap-watch day than a sterling-silver-Rolex day.

Hot didn't even begin to cover it. Summer was finally showing in this chilled town. Though it was late June, the weather hadn't been showing it. It was ninety and rising today, opposing yesterday's weather (a breezy seventy degrees). I wore a man-blouse, jeans and boots, which was not my most intelligent decisions.

The climate in the shop was cool for the flowers, but even in the shade of the shop, the flowers wilted in the heat. Both doors and the windows were closed, but the heat managed to flit its way into the store.

The fan turned one-hundred-and-eighty degrees, then turned back and blew cool air in my direction. I closed my eyes and dreamed of a cruise-line yacht reserved just for me and a girl. I don't know who the girl is, but she would be beautiful. In my dream she was just a silhouette, but I knew she was beautiful. We would slow-dance on Sunday and ease our minds in the sauna. I would wrap my arms around her on the bow and we would gaze at the sea. She would be my Captain, and I would be her cabin-boy (not in a kinky way, gracious no, mother always taught me manners, put your lady above yourself). I would beckon to her ever whim; so she wishes it, so it will be. She would not be model beautiful and have a size C, but she would be a lithe, thin girl. Not slender. She would have blue eyes like Omitchi and hair like Ken's. She would have freckles like Aya-chan and have pale skin like Aya. She would wear her hair in pigtails and wear plaid-red blouses tied off above her belly. She would wear high-waters and walk bare-footed through the sand on the beach. She would be seven inches shorter than me, and smell of freshly harvested apples.

I always dreamed of this, picturing my perfect woman out of the people closest to me. I love them all, Ken, Omi, Aya and Aya-chan, but I would be unable to choose one to love the most. So I dream of all of them. I know there is somebody out there that looks how I picture, but I would have to travel the earth to find her.

How dreadful, though. If I did find my number one, I wouldn't be able to care for her as well as I dream. I would be out protecting Japan, and she would be home, thinking about when I will be back from my business-trip. When I come back bruised and with broken ribs, she'll demand to know what happened. 'I was mugged,' I would say, and she would cry for me and apologize. I never really want to stay an assassin, it just doesn't clique. I love my family, but I just wouldn't want to work with them forever.

I wish I was younger, than I would actually go out and search for that perfect girl. I would talk to her, make her laugh until she loves me. And I would save every dollar, every penny, until I can reserve a cruise-liner just for us.

Yohji closed his black, leather-bound notebook. "Ah, I'm such a poet." He giggled, and helped serve the school-girls that rushed in for 'flowers'. Aya was overwhelmed by the bunch that cornered him and Omi was there helping Sakura with her calculus work. Ken was ignorant to the girls lusting after him and simply had a smile on and handed out flowers.

"Have a nice day!" Ken said to each girl he served and kindly waved as the bunch left.

"I," Yohji began to declare, "Am an artist to a degree you cannot comprehend."

"Oh, what did you write this time, Yotan?" Omi perked up. "Is it about us again?"

"Mm. More or less, it's based on y'all." Yohji laughed and held the notebook up high. "If anyone wants to read it, I'll have this work published by next month." He had just filled up his sixth note-book. He had a friend who was a publisher, and he would mail it to him later.

"If those sell as well and you are cocky," Aya grunted. "Then you'll have enough to buy a yacht."

Yohji leered at Aya. "That's the idea, buttermuffin."

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A/N: Haha, I had fun writing this. ) Flame if you wish, but I'm not being a mary-sue. I did not insert myself into the story and I didn't give Character X a name. D It was just supposed to be a cutesy-wootsy thing. ) I hope you enjoyed.


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